The Unpleasantness At The Bellona Club*

“That’s all healing up nicely,” says Jackie the plastic surgery nurse after she’s peeled off the steristrips.  Clipping the plastic stitches with her tweezers, she sticks pink micropore tape over my almost-healed scars. “That’s a relief,” Mum says, looking a bit less miserable for the first time in days. “Oh good,” I say, looking down […]

The Draining Lake*

“Hello,” my plastic surgeon says, popping his head round the door, his face lit up by his huge smile. “Hello,” I say.   “How are you doing?” He says, perching on the edge of my bed which creaks: he’s a portly gentleman. “Not too bad,” I say.  “In a lot of pain, but my chest […]